Faith, Hope and Ethan Rayne
by Cheshire's Chipped Cup
Summary: Sequel to 'Dark As Sunnydale'. Buffy is dead and Spike is having a hard time dealing, but a cruel twist of fate brings them back together, but are the obstacles in the way too much and with a little one on the way? Rated M just in case.


**Here is the promised sequel to 'Dark As Sunnydale', I know its been a while, but I already have this whole story mapped out, now for the hard part of story writing, 'I know where I want to go, I just don't know how to get there'. But not to worry, this story has my attention much more than any of my others and with such boring classes this semester I should be writing a lot in the next couple of weeks.**

**Please review, its always nice to know what people think. Flames are always welcome too.  
**

Rain crashed down on the little town of Sunnydale, the soothing chime of the water hitting everything in sight for miles was calming to the people who had lost so much. The town was safe, it was restored to its former glory; or it was on the way at least. There was still a lot of work to do, but no one was near the mind of giving up. People were finally able to sleep peacefully again, after a decade of being overrun with vampires, a decade of fear and loss, the vampire rulers were vanquished; well Drusilla and Angelus at least. Glory, Anya and Cordelia hadn't been seen since the fight and no one knew whether or not they were still alive.

It wasn't really a problem, since they were too stupid and carless to ever be a real threat on their own, the Scooby gang hadn't thought to make them a high priority. So instead they all focused on helping the town.

There was hardly anyone in the street that night, people taking refuge from the blistering rain inside shops, pubs, and any sort of shelter that was open at this late hour; which was every single one of them. But in the shadows that stretched along the road, a single lost soul wandered aimlessly through the darkness, not caring that he was soaking wet and cold as death; he instead welcomed it. His blonde hair sparked with white and yellow in the dim light of the streetlamps, his boots scraped over the rocky path, kicking loose little rocks that scattered across the road. His hands were hidden deeply in the pockets of his black leather duster that flapped around in the wind. His shoulders were hunched and his head was hanging low, but it was not the wind and the rain that he tried to hide from.

Spike paid no heed to the crowds of people at the edges of the street, greeting him with cheers and little excited squeals from inspired children, looking up at their hero. They may have thought that he was a hero, but he wasn't. He was no hero, yes he saved the town, but he hadn't saved the one who mattered most to him. No, the one person in all the world who should be walking beside him, who should be awing people with her golden hair and musical laugh...was dead. Spike could hardly make it through each day without her, every second was spent thinking about her.

He couldn't let go of the pain of losing her, he held it so close to his heart, fearing that if he dared release it, if he tried to forget that agony; he would forget her as well. That was something he was not ready to do, it was something he would never do. The rest of the gang had tried everything they could think of to try and cheer him up, but he hadn't smiled since the last time Buffy had kissed him; that had been six months ago. Now, tears eternally stung his eyes, his body was tense and tired, and nothing ever helped. He wouldn't let himself cry, he had cried enough, he needed to be strong. He wasn't going to let himself drown in the pain and misery of his heart, but he couldn't help but wonder if he already had.

He didn't deserve the love and praise of the town, he had let his one true love die in the battle _he _waged, he let her die; taking their baby with her. Spike hadn't told anyone about the baby, it was too painful to talk about Buffy let alone what they had shared together...for however short a time. But because of this secret no one knew how to help him, for they didn't know that he was carrying the guilt and sorrow of not just one, but two innocent lives.

It didn't help that every living moment all he could think about was Buffy and the child that neither of them ever got to meet. It was always running through his mind like an ever-changing movie, where every time it played over something would be different. He would think about what the baby would look like, what they would name him, where they would send her to school, where they would live together. But there was one reoccurring fantasy that would burn him; the fantasy of getting married to Buffy. Spike would spend days at a time lying on his bed in the basement, dreaming up their wedding, thinking about every little thing. When he would propose, how she would react, where the wedding would be and who they would invite. Then his thoughts would carry him to the beautiful white dress she would've worn as she walked down the aisle. He would dream about the tears of joy in her eyes as they vowed to be together for the rest of their lives.

Spike could nearly always be found doing this, it gave him some comfort for a while...until he woke up and his heart would break all over again when he realised it was all just a dream, that this cold, empty world was the reality and none of his dreams had ever happened...and never would. Tears sprung to his eyes and this time, he didn't bother to cover them up.

Walking through the front door, Spike took off his coat and threw it mindlessly on the couch. It didn't quite reach and flopped to the floor, but he didn't care. He walked on and left it there, going down to the basement where he would stay until the next time he felt he needed some air.

Not that much later, Giles, Dawn, Oz, Willow, Tara, Andrew and Jonathan walked in, all going straight to their usual late-night activities. Andrew and Jonathan went straight to the kitchen, closely followed by Willow and Oz who were keen to join the all-night pig-out that was surely in progress; Tara went upstairs where she would slip peacefully into bed and forget to take her shoes off; Giles would sit down in the lounge room with Jenny, who had been home all night, and share a good book with her over a nice warm cup of tea.

Dawn stood alone in the hall, watching her loved ones wander off blissfully into their own little worlds while she remained in her world of pain and torment; solitude. Her big sister was dead, not a year after finally getting her back again and she was gone again, and this time there was no coming back. She began wondering what life would have been like had she never left at all, when she turned into the lounge room and saw a heap of black leather tossed carelessly on the floor. She picked up the leather duster and stared in sorrow.

"Guys!" Dawn yelled throughout the house, drawing her family to the lounge room to join her in staring at the discarded coat. "Look! Spike just threw his coat on the floor, he didn't hang it up he just threw it away. He didn't even pick it up off the floor"

"So you want someone to go down and talk to him about tidiness?" Oz asked numbly.

"What? No! Spike has barely said a word to anyone for months, and now he's just tossed away his beloved coat like rubbish without thinking twice about it. There is something really wrong and I think someone should do something about it if we want to keep calling ourselves his family"

"Right, so who should it be to have a talk with someone who is no better than a mute these days?" Giles asked.

"Who here is the closest to him? Who is the one person he will listen to?"

Everyone went very silent, all hearts breaking at the memory of the person that came first to all their minds.

Giles looked back at Dawn. "That would be you…now"

"Right, so I should probably go talk now, to Spike…now"

* * *

Vampires gathered in the dozens around the old mansion where the King of Vampires once lived. They were few now, but they were still many. Not the great army they had once been, but they were quickly rebuilding what they had lost to the humans. They had lost the town and both their leaders, not to mention both the second in command; one dead and one returned to humanity.

They were in need of a new leader, but it wasn't as simple as picking someone out of the crowd or holding a contest in skill, what they needed to retain respect and recognition of authority throughout the vampire community was to be ruled by someone in the direct royal line of the Order of Aurelius. Beginning all the way back in the 12th century, this group of most blood-thirsty creatures descended down the line, leading all the way to Angelus and his queen.

To be considered a part of this royal family, there were rituals that needed to be performed. Angelus had never been one for traditions, but he wanted the power. As soon as the battle had ended, the next ruler had been taken into hiding where the proper rituals had been performed. A little magic, chanting and blood and the new leader was ready to take the throne.

Vampires huddled in the grand foyer of the mansion, awaiting the introduction of their new Queen. On the balcony, a short, proud vampiress walked out in a long black dress. Her long blonde hair was tied up elegantly with locks falling over her shoulders. She held her head up high and grinned down upon her subjects with blood-rose lips.

"My dear friends, we have suffered a great loss. Your great King was slain at the hands of his long-time enemy, a human. He was pathetic! A useless ruler who cared only for his next conquest, a leader from the long and noble line of the Order of Aurelius; you should expect more from such a creature. I give you now, the leader you can expect great things from. For she is more powerful than any other vampire here, you all know that she is the only one of her kind, she has defied all the laws of death. I give you Buffy Summers, Slayer Queen of Vampires!"

Darla turned to the doorway behind her and held out her arm for the young, petite Vampire Queen to link her own pale arm with. Her gold hair was magnificently tied up, decorated with pearls. Her radiant red dress was lost in the shadows of the night; the room was lit only by the soft tremble of candle light. Buffy stepped out into the dimly lit room and looked down upon her followers. She smiled down upon them, and then down at her large, round belly. It had been six months since the fall of Angelus and Drusilla, six months since she had last seen her human lover. Darla had been the first one to find her in the basement, days after the battle was over she had crawled from her grave and wandered back to her place of death. She had told Buffy all that had happened during the battle, including the untimely death of the human's leader, Spike. Buffy had wept for her lost love for days, but she was soon forced to accept his death and prepare for her future as Queen, less she be destroyed for her human weakness.

She rubbed her belly gently and thought proudly about the little person growing inside her, she wondered what they would be like; vampire or human? Or something completely different? She hoped her child would be human, it made the most sense and besides, she didn't want the only thing she ever shared with Spike to be born a monster. But she would never tell Darla this, Buffy was Queen of Evil now and she gladly accepted her job; but somewhere deep inside her the pieces of her broken soul still remained thanks to the humanity and love inside her unborn child.

* * *

Later that night, in the blooming light of dawn, Buffy lay in her bed of luscious silk and satin doona and pillows. Her bed was placed in the west wing of the mansion, only five other vampires were allowed to live here; her three sisters, Glory, Anya and Cordelia, and her advisor and teacher, Darla and a man named Ethan Rayne. She had never heard of Ethan Rayne, but according to Darla he had been around since the 17th century, less time than her who had been sired in 1609, North America after emigrating as a human from the British Isles.

There was a lot of mystery around Ethan Rayne, not even Darla seemed to know where he came from, either that or she was good at keeping secrets from her. Buffy lay on her side, one hand stretched out before her and the other wrapped securely around her pregnant belly. She was staring out at the fuzzy image of the rising sun behind the black curtains pulled over the large windows. The darkness of the vaguely see-through material gave her sight out the window while protecting her from fiery harm. Like any other day spent half-asleep in her room by herself, she was thinking of Spike.

His platinum hair and big blue eyes, smooth pale skin, the way he could make her shiver with a single touch. It was just so hard to believe he didn't make it through that battle, that he was no longer in this world. How could she possibly go on without him around? Everyone said that she shouldn't feel anything due to the lack of a soul…the only problem was that she had a soul or at least a piece of one. Her baby inside her glowed with goodness and other such things and forced her to feel the pain of her lost love. But even while enduring the heartbreak and misery, she still felt this familiar feeling of safety; the kind only Spike could give her.

She spent the whole day lying in her bed, waiting for darkness to fall so she could finally leave the mansion for the first time and go on her first hunt. She didn't know how but she knew somehow, someone was waiting for her.

* * *

Dawn crept quietly down the creaky stairs, nothing down here in the basement had changed in the past six months, except for the insane amount of sketches around the desk, and the small coffee table in the corner of the room. On a little black table near the bed was a collection of small items Spike had gotten from everywhere except a shop. Three white candles burning dimly around a sketch on brown paper in a gold frame sitting between the candles. It was a picture of Buffy, smiling, like she didn't have a care in the world. There was a star in her eyes and a glowing smile. It was so detailed that regardless of the single colour, you could almost imagine the exact shade of red of her lips and the colour of her eyes.

There was a little silver chain sitting in front of the picture, with a beautiful Celtic cross on it. Dawn guessed it was a present that Spike had been planning to give to Buffy before she was kidnapped. She stared at the shrine for a while, she had never seen the necklace before but it was the picture that held her attention. She could almost hear her laugh, it was so real; how could a picture made up of pencil lines and parchment look so real?

Dawn spun around when she heard something behind her, and breathed a sigh of relief when she realized it was only Spike. "Jeez, Spike, you scared me"

"I didn't know I could still do that anymore...thought I'd lost my touch" He said numbly as he sat down at his desk and picked up the pencil.

Dawn suddenly wished she hadn't said anything at all. "Um Spike? I wanted to come down to see if you felt like talking….about stuff? Anything?"

"I haven't spoken to anyone about '_anything_' for more than five months, so why would I feel like it now?"

"I just thought, it might be nice to have someone to talk to and we've been giving you so much space that we're a little worried that we might have become distant; and we don't want you to feel like we don't care or anything"

"Don't worry Niblet, I don't think it makes much difference one way or another. Talking about something doesn't change anything, it can't bring her back"

Dawn suddenly felt very uncomfortable, she wanted to help Spike, not feel guilty about not doing this a long time ago. He had travelled past the 'talking to someone' point and dropped straight into the 'doesn't make any difference' depression point. She looked around for something else to talk about and looked back at the shrine. "That's really beautiful, that picture. It's amazing how alive you can make her look"

"I wanted something that would make her look as beautiful as she did in real life, but the only photos I could find of her were taken when she was little, so I drew one"

"Yeah, she took off for ten years, she missed all her school photos and prom photos and graduation…she missed a lot," Dawn noticed the heartbreaking look on Spike's face and decided to change the subject again. "Your drawings are really good, did you ever think about becoming an artist?"

"Once, back when I lived in L.A., I used to hang out with this gang. I went out with this girl called Faith, hellova chick that girl. She left me for some guy named Robin Wood, she was my best friend as well as the love of my life at the time…she caused me three long months of grief. I left the street life and went off to college, which I could do since I actually finished high school unlike Faith. I practised art for the full three years I was there before moving to a dark little town where I spent the next seven years fighting vampires and protecting a silly little ten year old called Dawn. Finally. I met my bloody soul mate who I lost to the Grim Reaper. I then lived for the rest of my life alone." The sarcasm in his voice was painfully clear.

He turned around to face Dawn. "And that was the story of my life, so since we've covered all other topics, why don't you tell me why you really came down to this dark basement to hang out with a depressed pillock?"

"Why do you think you're a depressed pillock?"

Spike chuckled. "Well, I do look pretty depressed, don't I? And I've been a pillock ever since Buffy died. I should have tried to cheer up, tried to move on and be happy, or at least do something other than lie around the basement and spend every waking and sleeping moment thinking about nothing but her. But instead I sit here night after night, looking at her face in every picture I draw, not to mention I've barely said a word to anyone but her for the last six months"

Dawn sat down on the couch, unknowingly inflicting pain by reminding Spike of his first kiss with Buffy…they didn't get many. "Spike, everyone is worried about you. You haven't joined us on a patrol in forever, you don't speak to anyone, you've stopped caring about your hair; which I can tell by the way it curls like that; and you threw your favourite coat on the floor. You love this thing, you've had it for more than a decade." Dawn held out Spike's leather duster to him.

He took his coat and dumped it on the desk. "So you guys can sit around pretending like things are all fine and dandy, just as long as you don't talk about Buffy, but as soon as I try a new look and lose interest in an old coat they send the whipper snapper down to do…what?"

"To talk, you've been thinking a lot lately, about what? We all lost someone special to us, but you've been walking around for half the year looking guilty"

Spike debated whether or not to tell Dawn about the baby, he decided that he wasn't ready to share that pain with anyone. "I'm not interested in moving on with my life anytime soon, Niblet, so unless you have something else to say, I would really like to be left alone"

"But Spike-"

"Go!" He turned his chair back to his desk and buried his head in all the drawings, his drawings of love.

Dawn realised she had hit something she hadn't meant to and hurried up the stairs, only to stop half-way up and freeze. "Um, Spike?"

"Just because you lot have decided not to say her name anymore doesn't mean I plan to. Not saying Buffy's name only helps you to forget her, and I won't do that…ever"

Dawn flinched once again at the mention of her sister's name, but understood. She nodded sadly and went upstairs to get ready for bed, leaving Spike alone with his dreams on paper once again. He could do nothing else, he was obsessed, these drawings were all he had left of her and it broke him to think of her; but he just couldn't stop. He had pictures of Buffy doing everything; picnics, dancing, sitting in the shade of a tree…mostly things she never got to do. She was so young and full of life and to have that ripped away from her. He had whole stories of her in his pictures, she was alive to him still, she hadn't died, she had been sent to a dimension that could only be seen through the work of paper and pencil.

A tear spilled from Spike's eye, to which he quickly wiped away so it wouldn't fall on the sketches. He couldn't let anything happen to them, they were all he had. He looked over at Buffy's shrine and walked over to it. He knelt down and slipped his hand behind the picture frame, he pulled his hand back with a small black box in it. His eyes were blurred with tears when he rested his hands in his lap, watching as his fingers twirled the box around. He finally had the courage to flick open the lid and stare down at the diamond ring that sat snugly in the white cushion. No one truly knew how much Spike loved Buffy, they had no idea that he had been planning to ask her to marry him. He had decided the day she went missing that he would do anything to get her back, even if it meant giving up his own life, but he had hoped that should they both make it back that he never wanted to be apart from her again. They had known each other a very short time to make such a leap, but he was more than ready and was more than ready to wait for her should she need time.

It hurt so much to think about her, he knew it would probably hurt less if he just talked about it, talked about everything, but he had been silent for such a long time he didn't even know how to talk to someone anymore. He had grown cold after Drusilla was killed, but then Buffy came around and found his heart again, and to lose her so soon…he wondered if he would ever be able to love anything ever again. He couldn't even tell Dawn how much he loved her, he felt so numb inside. If only he could just hold Buffy one last time, just hear her laugh or see her smile…

* * *

As the wind gathered up her hair, Buffy swept through the mansion doors and began up the staircase. The night had gone fast and she had only managed to catch two people, but she had been distracted. She didn't bother to check in with anyone before she slipped into a black nightgown and into bed. It was still dark when she closed her eyes and let sleep wash over her.

'_She was walking through a cemetery, not going anywhere in particular, just walking around. Her heart was so hollow and her head was so heavy, but day would never come, she had all the time in the world. Suddenly, she heard footsteps coming her way and she looked up to see who her company might be. She gasped in shock when the platinum-haired man of her dreams stepped out from the shadows and smiled at her._

"_Spike…are you really here?"_

"_Only you, I wouldn't be here for anyone else"_

_He came up close and caressed her face with the back of his hand, "I'll never leave you, Buffy." He whispered gently to her. Buffy gripped the sides of his leather duster tightly and pulled herself into his arms, where he held her securely. She looked up at his face and nuzzled him, resting their foreheads together. She breathed in his scent and smiled through her tears._

"_I thought you were dead…I've missed you so much, I never want to be away from you ever again"_

"_I'll always be right here when you need me, luv, there is no one in this whole world that I could ever love as much as I love you"_

"_I never want to go, can we stay here, forever?"_

"_It doesn't matter where we are, I'll always be with you"_

_She opened her eyes to find herself on her bed, Spike lying just opposite of her. He smiled at her and brushed some hair out of her face. She reached for him in the darkness, but found nothing there.'_

Her eyes opened slowly, her arm was stretched across the bed, touching nothing. Where was he? He said he wouldn't leave. Then she realised it was nothing but a dream. Tears crept from her dead eyes in the quiet of the early morning, she held herself and cried. She had so much ahead of her and she didn't have a clue how to handle any of it, how could she do anything without him…she needed him. She could never stop loving him, all she wanted was to feel his arms around her once again, to know how safe he could make her feel. She was alone and scared, and she couldn't ask anyone for comfort. Nobody else had a soul, nobody could care less about her and her pathetic human feelings. She was so alone and so sad and all she needed was someone to put their arms around her and tell her that everything would be alright. If only her mother was still alive, if only she could go home to her sister and her aunt and uncle and tell them how sorry she was for all the things she had done…if only she had the chance to tell Spike how much she really loved him.

The cold morning air stretched through the gap between the curtains and stroked her skin softly, as if telling her that the cold and solitude was her only comfort now, all she had was the darkness and evil that tried day after day to take her heart. But there was too much humanity in her for that to happen, she wouldn't let the demon inside her take control. Her hands wrapped around her belly and she cried for the child inside her, a child who would never know his father. She was expected to raise this baby alone while she had all these humane emotions swirling around inside her.

She didn't know how much more of this she could take. There was only one thing in her room made of wood and that was a chair that sat neatly tucked under a desk. She had thought about it before, about breaking a leg off that chair with ease and shoving it into her chest where her broken, unbeating heart was supposed to be. But she couldn't bring herself to do it, she just kept thinking about her baby, she couldn't take that little life away before she had a chance to live it. She would take her away, she would make sure that no vampire but herself would ever lay a hand on him. She knew it wasn't planned for her to keep the baby, she wasn't stupid. Darla wanted her baby for herself, now whether she planned to kill her and raise the baby herself or to babysit the child to the extent of replacing her mother, she did not know.

Buffy waited impatiently for the sun to once again dip down low behind the horizon, as soon as she could, she went out to hunt again. Darla insisted she didn't need to hunt for herself, if she ever wasn't feeling up to it she could order one of her minions to go out hunting for her, but Buffy assured Darla that she was quite capable of performing the task herself. The moment she stepped outside she felt better, she just needed to escape those cold walls and experience the freedom that every new vampire was supposed to feel; and the first thing she decided to do now that she understood her power and limits was to go straight to a cemetery.

* * *

Spike walked slowly past the trees in Restfield Cemetery, he hadn't set foot in a cemetery since Buffy's funeral. He thought about the stake in his hand, he thought about how easy it seemed to die by such a weapon. It took a second, just a second for a staked vampire to die, to burst into dust and exist no more. He thought back to the time he had stopped Buffy from getting herself sired, he was beginning to understand why she was so willing to live like that. He couldn't believe he had made it this far without falling for the same temptation. To live forever without pain or sorrow, without love; without a beating heart.

He may as well be a vampire already, he never left the house during the day, he hanged around with vampires most nights and his heart beat only to keep him from death; it had no other purpose anymore. A scream echoed through the misty night, so Spike headed in that direction. Why someone was walking through a cemetery with a reputation such as this one in the dark of night was beyond him, the vampires weren't gone and anyway, what sane person walks through cemeteries at night? Only creepy people, and they usually turn out to be undead.

But he was in the mood for some violence, it was always a nice distraction from his eternal pain. When the vampire and victim came into sight, Spike sighed, suddenly not very interested anymore. A young boy of about 20 was being held against a tree by a blonde vampiress in a long black dress; could these vampires possibly try something new instead of the same boring black and red from time to time. By the design of the dress, Spike assumed she must be part of Angelus' court, and when that thought hit him he clutched the stake in his hand tightly and charged at the undead mistress.

He grabbed her by the shoulder and threw her behind him where she hit the dirt with a thump, he turned to the boy and yelled, "Get out of here kid!" before turning back to the creature of the night. It was already very dark and with the mist and lack of a moon tonight, Spike found it difficult to make out the vampiress as she pulled herself to her feet. But when her bumpy forehead and silver fangs morphed back into her natural form, he felt his heart stop.

He nearly dropped to his knees as his breath caught in his chest, his eyes grew wide and his heart pounded like a thunder storm. The vampire that stood only a metre away from him straightened herself and brushed her long blonde curls out of her face. Her emerald eyes locked with his blue ones in equal shock. Spike could hardly breathe, he didn't know if his heart was drowning in amazement or horror. He was only able to produce a single word at the sight of her; "Buffy?"

**Well, how was that? A nice start to the story? Sorry about the mess, I just discovered that all the little lines I have been putting in to seperate each scene hasn't been getting through, no wonder my other stories are so hard to read.  
**


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